Page 31 of Plunge

“What the hell are you doing here,” I sneer at him, not intending to sound like such a bitch. But I’m in a mood and it’s been a day.

He looks up and smirks at me. “Oh, hello, Thistle,” he says. “Pleased to see you as well. Always good to run into an old friend!”

I plunk down into a plastic chair next to him. “I’m sorry. I’ve had a bad day.”I close my eyes and take a deep breath and then look at him again. “Can I start over? Hey, Fletcher. I haven’t seen you around here before. What brings you to Red Line Therapy Services?”

He laughs and throws the magazine down on the table, leaning back and sticking his long legs out in front of him, crossed at the ankles. “I gave Abigail a ride. She starts physical therapy today. She has Dinosaurs Wrecks or something? In her stomach?”

“Do you mean diastasis recti?”

He nods. “Yes. Yes I do. And I know exactly what that means, also. Just so we’re clear.”

I don’t say a thing, but I can feel my face fighting a grin. I happened to hear Ivy talk all about this condition that women get after childbirth, where their ab muscles stay separated after the baby is born. Ivy spent half of our aerial silks class talking about the benefits of what we were doing, and core strength was a big one.

Fletcher laughs and shakes his head. “I think her guts aren’t put back together yet, Thiss.”

I’m not sure why that’s so funny, but soon enough the two of us are howling with laughter. Maybe he, like me, is just noticing how different his life is today from how it was a month ago. Even if we forget the little fact that we married each other.

Sitting in a beige waiting room reading old Oprah magazines, talking about damaged body parts with an ex lover is quite a different scene from…well I’m not exactly sure what it is that Fletcher’s been doing. But it’s not this.

Not by a long shot.

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